


for a thousand years

by meerkat_parties



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, might end up kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meerkat_parties/pseuds/meerkat_parties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marceline has been alive for over a thousand years. You have to imagine that takes it's toll on a person. Maybe there is some one (or even a couple someones) who can bring the flavor back into her afterlife. What's eternity without friends?<br/>[alright, literally my first fanfic EVER (so criticism is welcome but please dont break my soul)]</p>
            </blockquote>





	for a thousand years

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is just a quick intro I typed up while putting off my hw for awhile. Since this is my first fic (and first pleasure writing in general for about 5 years) it's likely to be a little rough, but hopefully fun!  
> [I doubt this little blurb will pique anyone's interest, but if it does please let me know an I'll hurry on some actual chapters in case someone would like XP]

One thousand years is a very long time.

One thousand is such an abstract concept. We can comprehend simple numbers of course, one through ten, twenty through thirty, and so on for quite awhile.

But when confronted with a thousand no one can truly wrap their head around it.

Sure, they can think of a thousand as a multiple of a hundred, or just that one number with the three zeros tacked on to the end. This, however, does not come close to the daunting, excruciating reality of a thousand.

Now, try to take this abstract, impossible concept and mesh it with the idea of years.

Our life is measured, more or less, in years. It’s a simple thing, 365 rotations around a yellow sun that adds up to how old we consider ourselves. Often pertaining to how wise we are.

Years are graspable, barely, but it can be done. However, one thinks back a single year. Five years. Maybe even thirty or sixty.

But try to imagine a thousand of those. All stacked up on each other, just an astronomical amount of years. Stretching seemingly eons into the past until they all mold and intertwine together and it’s impossible to distinguish them. Or even tell where they began, truly.

And finally, can you imagine living for one thousand years?

The world constantly changing, rules being altered, truths destroyed and every friend gone into dust.

How lonely this must be. To have everything lost to time but to remain the same. Until no evidence of your previous life exists and you can’t even recall who you are or how you came to be.

Most people, after such a preposterous amount of time, would regress. Become cruel and bitter with so much time stretching behind them, all memories lost to the abyss, and no seeable end to it all.

  


Nine hundred ninety eight years after her rebirth as one of the elite undead this is exactly what Marceline, Queen of the Vampires, had become.


End file.
